Sunglasses Set The Record Straight
by ultrasparkysparkyboom
Summary: 'Dick Grayson sometimes can't help it if they find out, other times he just wants to tease his friends a little.' A multi-chaptered story depicting the reactions of all the Team members when they find out who Robin really is (or Dick Grayson, depends who they're with at the time). Rated T for some mild swearing, and a broken nose.
1. Artemis

a/n: this is very short, really just a drabble. I thought it would be cute, so here you go! Enjoy!

* * *

Days in Gotham City were always filled with excitement, crime, and the occasional screams that everyone tried hard to ignore. Winter days in Gotham were even more exciting, for it was the holiday season and that meant going out to find gifts for family members, and friends. Of course, with the holiday season came the crowded shops and traffic jams all around the city. Artemis did not like the crowded shops at all. In fact, it was one of the things she hated most about holiday seasons.

Artemis was inside a department store, in the men's clothing section, wandering around with Dick Grayson in an attempt to find a suitable gift for Bruce Wayne. Earlier that week, Dick had helped Artemis pick (and pay, something that she loathed him for) some clothing items for her mother, and so now she was just repaying the favor. However, finding a gift for a multi millionaire was proving harder than she had originally thought, mainly because Dick kept goofing off.

"Check me out!" Dick cackled, grabbing a furry white coat and wrapping in around his lithe frame. He spoke with a posh French accent, "I am Madame Le Blanc, French teacher of Gotham Academy, and part-time children torturer!"

Artemis stifled a laugh, scowling. "Put that down before the guards come to get you, Grayson."

"The guards?" Dick raised an eyebrow, smirking. "The guards would leave me alone, Arty, after I paid them a few hundred dollars…"

"A few hundred dollars wouldn't be enough to bribe them to leave you alone. A few top-notch criminals in Gotham might pay good money to get their hands on you."

"Aw, really? Arty, you say the sweetest things! I didn't know I was _that _sough out!"

Dick and Artemis walked around the shop some more, him joking around, and her frowning at his childish antics. Who knew that a high school freshman could be so darned immature? It was almost like trying to have a conversation with a yapping monkey, much less buy something for his father.

Dick grabbed Artemis's arm, yanking her hard enough to surprise her. He led her to the sunglasses display, and quickly explained himself, "Bruce loves sunglasses. He'll never wear them, but he likes to keep them all clean on his bedside table."

"That's kind of weird," Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"Bruce is weird," Dick shrugged, a secretive smile inching across his face. "It comes with the job."

Artemis got the sense that he wasn't talking about his daytime job at Wayne Tech, but rather that nighttime job that Dick was always so cryptic about. He would always hint that he and Bruce had some extra activities (apparently dangerous, after Artemis and Dick had had yet another conversation on the subject) that they did at night.

Dick grabbed a set of sunglasses, which were dark and skinny. He put them on, staring at his reflection on the mirror, and when he decided he was satisfied, turned to Artemis. "How do I look?"

Artemis glanced at him, and then stared. And stared, and stared some more. It was like looking at the spitting image of Robin in civilian clothing. _No, _Artemis laughed at herself, _it can't be him. _Then she stared at him a little more, and a knowing scowl settled deep on her lips. _Hell _no_, it is him. _

What happened next was something that no one could have anticipated. Dick Grayson, the Boy Wonder, couldn't have seen where his actions would lead to, at least, not fast enough to get out of the way.

A few seconds after he had put on the sunglasses, Artemis had dove in for a bruising punch at his nose. Dick groaned, pain flaring up at the bridge of his nose, and his hand instantly went flying up to touch it. "What the hell was that for?"

"What the hell was that for?" Artemis mocked, her voice raising an octave higher. "_What the hell was that for? _You freaking little—Argh!"

Dick could feel a steady trickle of blood coming from his nose, and he was tempted to punch her back. If he did, though, then the police would certainly come for them. Instead, he settled with a simple, "At least I didn't tell you I was Robin by saying it straight out. When I did that with Wally he laughed so hard he peed his pants."


	2. Kaldur

a/n: Yes, I'm continuing this story. I just really love the idea of writing about the Team's reactions of when they find out about Robin's identity. It's cute, and one of the readers suggested I make more, so…here you go!

* * *

It was one of those lazy days at the Cave. The ones that the Team so rarely got and when they did, one of them was usually at school or running an errand. The poor bastards couldn't rest even on their days off. Of course, the life of a hero never promised to be fair, or easy. Days off where they didn't really have them off was something to be expected.

Now it was only Robin and Kaldur in the Cave. Both boys were sprawled on the couch in the living room, engaged in a fierce battle against the forces of evil. They were winning, them teaming up together proved to be a challenge for whoever chose to take them on. When Robin punched a troll on the face, he hollered, raising his fist up in the air as he stood.

"Yes!" Robin screamed at the TV screen, where the video game was projected. "Eat my fist, trolls!"

Kaldur chuckled at his younger friend, "Robin, I believe that if they ate your fist then you would have no way of winning against them."

Robin blinked, lowered his fist. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then opened it again. "It's an expression, Kal. A human metaphor."

"Oh." The Atlantean said lamely.

"So," Robin stretched, still standing on top of the couch. "The game is starting to get boring. Want to do something else?"

Kaldur nodded, "We _have _been playing it for quite some time. Perhaps we could go to the beach?" He had been aching to re-hydrate, but had sat in silence due to Robin's complete happiness during the game.

"Sure," Robin nodded. "It's not like there's much to do inside here."

The two boys went to their respective rooms to change. When they came out, it was with their swimming trunks on, a towel, and sunblock. It was the beginning of summer vacation, and Dick had been dismissed from his classes. Even M'gann and Conner were done, and now were probably off to the mall or a restaurant around Happy Harbour. Wally was still the only one who had an extra few days of school left.

Robin adjusted his glasses, then walked down to the living room. There, he found Kaldur putting his shoes on. He walked over to his friend, and together, they got out of the suffocating Cave and into the morning air. The sun was high in the sky, the beach glistening with the reflection of the large star. It was definitely a good day to go to the beach.

So they exited the Cave and ran to the ocean. As they did, Robin tried to keep his sunglasses on his face. They threatened to fall off every time that his step became a little too jumpy, his jog a little too fast. But he managed, and soon, he'd dropped everything (even the sunblock because really, who needed to put it on?) and was running with Kaldur at his side to the water.

When they came to the exact place where the ocean reached the shore, Kaldur stared down at the little tendrils of water that drifted between his toes. He had been focusing on the sea so intently that when Robin pushed him so he landed face-first into the shallow water, all he could do was gape like the half-fish he was born to be.

Robin cackled.

Then swam off into the ocean where he could only maintain his head over the water if he stood on his tiptoes. Kaldur had by now recovered, an uncharacteristic grin covering his whole face. He submerged himself into the water, swimming down until he was not visible anymore.

Robin, sensing that something felt odd, looked around. There was no sign of Kaldur anywhere, and just when the thought that something _really _bad was going to happen to him registered, the surprise came. Kaldur grabbed Robin's ankles from underneath the water, lifted the poor boy up into the air, and then dropped him back down.

When Robin came back up for air he was sputtering salt water. His face was scrounged up into a grimace, his tongue dabbing at every corner in his mouth. He rubbed the remains of the water from his eyes and they came into focus. What he first saw was Kaldur, who was trying really hard to not stare at him. Robin furrowed his eyebrows; there was nothing on his face, or at least, nothing that he could feel.

_There's nothing on my face._

The thought made Robin's eyes widen comically, but soon enough, they returned to their normal size. He sighed, "C'mon, Kal. You can look, it's not like you haven't already seen my eyes."

Kaldur was still covering his eyes with his webbed hands, though. He went down in the water, and then resurfaced with Robin's glasses. Handing them to the younger boy, he apologized. "I am sorry, Robin. I shouldn't have done that; it was rude of me."

Robin shrugged, "Apology accepted, but it doesn't matter anymore." He held out a hand for Kaldur to shake, "Name's Dick Grayson. Nice to meet you."

* * *

a/n: Because it's impossible for Dick's sunglasses to stay on his face when swimming.


	3. M'gann

It was a mission gone wrong. One minute, the Team was battling it out against the Cult of the Kobra when a man named Deathstroke revealed himself. Robin had seemed to recognize the man, rapidly filling in the Team about his vital statistics. His name was Slade Wilson, and he was an assassin, a _very_ dangerous assassin.

The next moment, the Team had found out just how dangerous one man could be. They all had ended up with multiple bruises, some worse than others, but no one had come out of the fight unscratched. It was a wonder than they had even gotten out of the factory with all their limbs attached to their sides. At least they were okay. They would survive.

But they weren't one hundred percent that Robin would. He had taken the hardest beating out of all of them, sacrificing himself so his friends could perhaps contact the League or get out of there. No one had used Robin's well-placed distraction to leave the crime scene; instead, they had all tried to fight back.

What a mistake it had been.

M'gann now had to lay down on a medical bed next to Robin's and attempt to bring him out of his coma. He had received a blow to his head that had given him more damage than they had all previously anticipated. It was a disaster. Wally was pacing all around the Cave, Batman was brooding more than usual, Kaldur blamed himself, Conner had become even more distant, and Artemis was giving them all the cold shoulder. M'gann was the only one who could help.

So she attempted to bring Robin out of his coma.

Her uncle J'onn was strapping her up to various machines that would monitor her heart rate, blood pressure, and brain function. M'gann had taken Robin's limp hand in hers during the process. It unnerved her that his hand would refuse to move in hers, but at least it was still warm. Warm meant that blood was flowing through his fragile human veins, which meant that his heart was still going strong.

_Good, _M'gann thought. _It's all going to be good. _

When Batman closed the medical bay's doors so no one except him and J'onn were inside the room, M'gann set to work. She closed her eyes, and when she set up the telepathic link, they opened to reveal a bright green glow. M'gann had to swim down into Robin's deepest subconscious to try and find the glitch in the system. And that wasn't going to be easy.

The thing about someone's subconscious was that it normally didn't make sense, to both the inhabitant and the visitor. It was mainly made up of scattered memories. If you had little or no information on the subject's past and experiences, then it would prove to be a hard job to make sense of things. But M'gann had to try.

Soon enough, M'gann had been dropped out into a deserted street. She supposed that it was Gotham City. The towering buildings and dirtied alleys could give that away, but it might have been someplace else. A place that M'gann had never visited before; she didn't know. There was nothing about Robin that M'gann knew except for his hero persona and his mentor's. And the occasional details of his training, but that didn't seem to matter because in the middle of the street, there was a boy.

As M'gann neared the little kid, age around eight or nine in human years, she noticed that he had really messy hair. And it was black, the same color of Robin's. _Maybe he's a younger version of Robin? _When M'gann got close enough to be noticed, the boy looked up at her with blueeyes. They were so blue that M'gann couldn't make out any other pigment of color in them, not like she had with other humans before.

The little kid gave her an odd look, and a yelp. "You're green!"

M'gann instantly held her hands in front of her face, trying hard to silence the quickly panicking boy. Maybe he wasn't Robin like she had hoped; surely he would recognize her in his own subconscious. "No, no, it's okay! Shh, I won't hurt you! You're safe—calm down, please! I _won't_ hurt you!"

The little boy calmed down by a sliver. M'gann smiled, "You can trust me." Then she added, "My name is M'gann."

The boy hesitantly smiled back, but still held up his hand. Just like a proper gentleman. "I'm Dick Grayson."

"Okay, Dick." M'gann nodded. She was making progress. Crouching down next to Dick, she asked, "What are you doing here all alone?"

"I lost my parents." Dick shrugged, as if trying to alleviate himself from a heavy burden. "I don't know where they went."

"Then I'll help you find them," M'gann held out a hand for him to take. Dick took it.

* * *

a/n: You didn't _really _think that it would all be rainbows and butterflies right? *wink* A little dose of angst is good for the soul, especially after those two lighthearted chapters from before.


	4. Conner

a/n: I figured that I should stick with the genre of 'Humour' instead of going into the angst genre. So this came out of me, which, by the way, coming up with an idea for Conner's chapter was harder than the rest. Hope you like it, though!

* * *

The only reason as to why Conner had decided to go to Gotham City was because of the wheels. He had been happily—neutrally, really—repairing his motorcycle after a rather tedious mission. There were times where he just hated going out with his motorcycle, even if it couldn't be helped. Missions were the worst events to bring your vehicles to; you either lost them somewhere between Boston and Toronto, or it was beat up by monkeys before your very eyes.

Conner grumbled to himself. The forsaken robotic monkeys had had the _nerve _to jack up his spectacularly kept motorcycle while he watched. After that little incident, he hoped that they would know not to mess with his possessions. Not that they would be able to, anyways. The robots wouldn't even be able to be repaired for multiple months as they were now reduced to scrap pieces of metal.

Conner left the zeta-tube platform, which had been conveniently located in a dumpster. He felt the need to complain to Batman about it, but he doubted that they would be able to relocate the zeta-tube easily. So, he left the place smelling like rotten eggs and fruits. If one of the bystanders could smell his new perfume, they didn't show it. Perhaps it was for the best, too. Conner doubted that, as vicious as the people in Gotham could be, they would want to engage in a fight with him.

The Joker might have been crazy enough to suggest a battle between them, but Conner knew that the rest of the population had at least an ounce of common sense left in them. Then again, common sense was not so common.

Reaching the shop with the exact tires that Conner wanted took a long while. He had to go from the dumpsters to the downtown area, and even then, finding a shop where nothing was so costly was hard. There were no perks in a city that had a bunch of billionaires in it, especially if said rich bastards had children that liked to go out and buy things on their own.

So maybe that was why Conner wasn't surprised when Dick Grayson, who he had seen in E! Entertainment (M'gann forced him to watch), went into the same shop that he was in. After all, the kid was a teenage boy with money; surely he had his own means of transportation apart from a limousine. What did surprise Conner though, was when Grayson greeted him.

"Hey," Dick Grayson smirked at Conner. He nodded once at the younger boy, and then returned to talking to the clerk.

"How much is it?" Conner asked the man. He had already selected the two replacement tires that he would be purchasing; now he just needed to be sure that he had enough money.

"Three hundred and fifteen dollars." The clerk replied. Conner silently cursed, he only had one hundred dollars in his pocket.

Dick Grayson, who had been kindly ignored, overheard the conversation. He furrowed his eyebrows, what should he do? It had been two whole years since Conner joined the Team, and he highly suspected that the clone still didn't have a clue about his secret identity. Paying for him wouldn't be too much trouble, and Dick was sure that Bruce would understand if Conner suddenly knew his secret identity.

Dick looked at both men, "Three hundred and fifteen, right?" The clerk nodded, and Dick took his credit card out. "Here you go."

Conner was incredulous, "What are you doing?"

"Paying for two motorcycle tires." Dick deadpanned. Conner shook his head, obviously not satisfied with the answer. "You didn't have enough money on you. And don't start arguing, that was the face of someone who _obviously _doesn't have enough to pay."

"But why?" Conner asked, now suspicious. Why would a kid he's never met be willing to pay for him?

Dick smirked, "Wanted to do something for a friend."

Before Conner could reply, although his expression was answer enough, the clerk came back with Dick's credit card and the two tires. He handed the items to their respectful owners, and both boys left the shop in silence. Finally, when they were out in the sunlight of midday, Dick found it suitable to brandish out his sunglasses.

Putting them on, he turned to Conner. "I'll be in the Cave at around five. Tell Canary I'll be late because Batman has some business he wants me to finish."

Without a glance back, Dick left a shocked Conner in the middle of the street. Conner shook his head. He should have expected that.


End file.
